Daft
by VSA Fic
Summary: The best thing about being the ditz was no one ever suspected her, not even while she committed Game Treason in front of their eyes.
1. The Routine Set by Authority

**A/N:** First fic I write. This idea has been cooked in my head for a long while now, and since I have a month of laziness ahead, I chose to use that time to finally write it down.

I won't reveal story details, but yes it's shippy, though luckily only so towards the end. I'm trying to make it focus on the action as much as the shipping, I don't want romance to absorb the plot.

Anyway. Enjoy this thing. Also, the T rating is actually me being very cautious; I don't know what things count as "adult themes", but since this ain't totally happy-go-lucky, I preferred to go with safety.

* * *

><p>The Routine Set by Authority<p>

Midnight bells rang over at the Player's World. Everyone in the ballroom screamed, horns blared, all people beaming and going for Midnight Kisses of good luck. They threw confetti and it fell on her hair and her mouth, and she wanted to spit it out, but the pieces of paper stuck to the roof of her mouth and her tongue. She tried to cheer, but the paper made her feel like she was choking.

Every racer screamed a joyful "Happy New Year", everyone hugged and took photos and shook hands for another year of rivalries and friendly and not-so-friendly competition and quarters that came and went in the peace of routine life. Candlehead wanted to be part of said celebration, but she was too busy picking the confetti with her hand and pulling it out, gagging in disgust at the bits that refused to let go.

She wasn't in the group photo that all the racers made leaping in midair and that Taffyta was the centerpiece of, smiling and spinning with a gleeful "Stay Sweet!".

But that was okay. That was routine.

The year was 2006, they had been plugged for nine years, and that was routine.

She didn't remember the year of His Majesty 1997. None of them did. There had been a calamity on the first anniversary of their game. A virus had tried to take over and dug very deep in the code, but fortunately, the biggest authority of the game, King Candy, had managed to dig in the vault as well and had stopped the virus somehow, she didn't understand that part very well; but his actions had, in turn, deleted all of the racers' memories from that first year of being plugged.

…Or so she had been told, eight years ago, after awakening to a very destroyed Town Square, the houses breaking into floating binary at parts and NPCs scattered unconscious through the whole Square. It had been Rancis who had given her a brief summary of what was going on, after arriving to the Square with none other than the King himself, His Majesty helping the NPCs to their feet and explaining patiently, to everyone who asked, about the calamity.

He had patched most of the code damage afterwards, and the only remnant had been a supposed beta character that had been used as a test model and scrapped afterwards deep in the code, and that the virus had freed from coma when destroying the contents of the vault. King Candy referred to her merely as the Glitch, and she had been fairly warned of how terribly dangerous the avatar was, having intentions of racing just like they did but, being her code incomplete, she suffered from tremendous glitching, and if she got chosen, the Players would see her glitch and they would pull the plug.

Candlehead swallowed the story whole. The King had saved the game and patched all the wreckage, he was obviously so benevolent! How would she not believe him? The poor thing he hadn't been able to pull back in the scrap folder whence it came from was an extra bug for them, too, having to push her back and make sure she retreated in the forest every few days. And she was stubborn. Poor King Candy; surely attending to a duty of checking she wouldn't kill them all was nothing but right.

Candlehead walked to the bathroom and washed her mouth with water from the tap. Colorful pieces were flushed with what she spat out. She scraped her tongue with her nails, the last papers being stuck there, and after a final wash, she felt like she was freed and free to attack the buffet again. She went out of the bathroom, still nauseous with from the attempt of colonization the confetti had had in her mouth, and Taffyta caught her by surprise as she was walking out.

"Are you okay?" was all she asked, yelling over the loud music. Perhaps she saw the face of disgust that _of course _she had to make with the revolting sensation of the sticky, wet paper.

But she put on a smile, fighting the wrestle of her stomach, and responded a simple "yeah".

Taffyta let go of that arm she had held surprisingly tight, and the mint chocolate girl headed to the snack table as if guided on instinct. Surely the nausea of the paper would be erased with the softness of one of the delightful s'mores. It wasn't like she was hungry; but it also wasn't like she didn't want food.

* * *

><p>Life in Sugar Rush was very simple. Almost every day was a variation of the static formula of 'race, get into the roster, maybe go bully the Glitch, have an outing, go to sleep, start again'. Sometimes she found herself fighting boredom, but then she remembered the King speaking about how much you must love and protect the game, and she nagged herself for being bored.<p>

She could always bake, draw a pretty picture, write a silly little story, go into her workshop and work in the latest of the little doodads she was a fan of building, matching small gears and fusing tiny pieces until she had a cute petit robot for her own amusement. She had those little talents that she never showed anyone, because no one ever bothered to ask.

Or she could drive out into the forest. Either was fun. And racing was fun too.

It was a shame the routine and the bullying gave her shivers.

King Candy was a benevolent King, speaking always in a fun tone and making puns. She never talked to him like Taffyta did, but she did think he wasn't a bad guy.

That was, until he commanded them go bully the Glitch.

His voice twisted into something she couldn't define, but knew by instinct was very bad; his frown scared her, his shadow was intimidating, and he turned into something she felt wasn't a part of the game.

And despite knowing it was right, seeing an avatar that looked so much like her, like all of them, cry was kind of distressing.

It didn't stop her from punching her face. It didn't stop her from calling her a Glitch and laughing at what Taffyta said and pushing her away when she tried to touch her.

But sometimes, after they were done and she was home, she felt her stomach churn, and she knew it wasn't because she had too much cupcakes.

That was the part of the routine that she couldn't stand; the weekly visit to the Glitch's hideout to flatten her morale. Sometimes they went twice a week. Sometimes, even more. It always started as playful comments and finished with everyone pushing her towards the Glitch and telling her to pull her hair or slap her, while she tried to look like she enjoyed it but had her gut tie into knots inside. The part that made her the saddest was she wasn't alone: The sweetest of them, Adorabeezle, Jubileena, they all said it in whispers at that one sleepover they had. She was in that sleepover, but Taffyta wasn't invited. And they all sat in a circle and admitted while mumbling that they all did it because it was what they were told was right, but sometimes, they felt bad.

Some nights, when she couldn't fall asleep, Candlehead wondered why didn't they talk to King Candy instead, and built a code wall around the racetrack, or convinced her to sign a fancy paper so that she had the forest to herself.

But King Candy was such an angry man when it was about the Glitch. And she was scared. Just like all of them were.

* * *

><p>The watercolor brush slid gently along the paper, filling an area with hot pink. She had been making this very pretty drawing for Taffyta, and her dress was currently her area of interest. She had found a way to make it sparkly using salt to get a cool effect, and she was more than willing to buy the salt for said purpose. Salt wasn't cheap in Sugar Rush; she supposed she'd explain to Taffyta how special the sparkle was when she gave her the gift. The small salt bag was ready and waiting to one side of the drawing table.<p>

A loud knock boomed throughout the house and she flinched, making the brush slide out of place and accidentally staining an already colored area. She whined in frustration, staring at the dirty drawing with sad eyes. There was no way she could fix that; at best she'd have to try and cover it and make it look good, at worst, she'd have to start all over again.

Sighing to try and keep her cool, she lifted herself from the chair, putting the brush to rest in a cup filled with water, and skipped to the front door. Behind was none other than Taffyta. Had Candlehead been a bit more perceptive, she would've noticed the irony.

The strawberry girl looked smug. She lifted a hand and waved it, smiling. "Hi, Taffy! Wassup?"

Sugar Rush's elite racer was particularly sharp and to the point. On a regular day, perhaps she would've been more than pleased to have a little chat and go in for a cup of chocolate, but this wasn't regular. Or, well, it actually _was_, but it was not an everyday occurrence. "I was talking to King Candy. He told me he had seen the Glitch trying something new."

"Oh," Candlehead answered, already anticipating exactly what she was about to request. She might have been a bit oblivious, but the words 'The Glitch' were obvious as could be. "So what did he say?"

Taffyta licked her lollipop. "He said he sent the cops to look for her, but she wasn't there. So he needs us."

_Why could the cops not look for her? _She thought, but drowned the idea in a puddle of submission. "Okay!" She chirped, grinning as if pleased with the mission, though she wasn't expecting anything particularly good. "'s everyone goin' there yet?"

"No. We're gathering at the start line. We're going to look for her in our karts, you know. It's easier and all. So I want you there while I tell the guys I haven't called yet. See you."

And she offered a high five, one that Candlehead gladly returned, though there was something in the contact she felt was tainted. "See ya."

She closed the door and laid against it for a few seconds, sighing. Bullying wasn't very fun. It was tiring and repetitive, but it was also a national obligation. Whenever she felt like she couldn't stand it anymore, she remembered a few insults and angry faces were all that was needed to _keep them alive_. That seemed to work a bit to make her feel better.

Though every time it seemed to work less.

* * *

><p>They found her on a clearing in the middle of the forest. She was holding two rolls of paper protectively, and when they found her, she hid them behind her, perhaps in hope they would be left unharmed. Candlehead was always in front row when it came to the bullying, it was one of the so-called privileges of being Taffyta's friend, and so, she saw it all; she saw the fear in her eyes when they came near her, the way she hid the rolls of paper, the little gulp she gave as they approached her.<p>

Taffyta stepped front. Taffyta usually stepped front. "Listen, I'm not even going to bother teasing you today. King Candy said he saw you trying something, and I've got all the evidence I need. I'm going to politely ask you to stop that and politely tell you that whatever it is you're trying, it probably won't work. So yeah." She put the lollipop back to her mouth and flicked it from side to side with her tongue. Candlehead observed the other racers forming a circle around her, waiting for Taffyta's orders as if she was some sort of boss.

The strawberry racer gracefully grabbed her lollipop and spun it between her index and thumb, a smug smile dancing on her lips. "Swizzle," she commanded dryly. "Hold her."

Said boy ran forward. The Glitch reacted, turning to face him, quickly yelping a "no, please!" that she probably knew had no point. He managed to dominate her with no problem, despite the fact she groaned and tried to fight back; he grabbed her by the front and twisted her, exposing the two hands that clenched the paper rolls desperately.

The Glitch was moaning and whining, trying to shake off of Swizzle's grasp, but the boy was stronger and managed to hold her quite well. Candlehead felt a pat on her back, the hand pushed her forward. Looking left revealed it to be Taffyta's hand. "Go ahead and take those papers for me, will you?"

She stumbled towards the shaky girl and gripped the rolls, delicately at first, but with more bravado as the other girl pressed them further, refusing to hand them over. She pulled harder, but the glitch girl was gripping them with such intensity her hands were turning pale. Candlehead's own hands crumpled the paper as she pulled _even harder_. She couldn't help but marvel at the Glitch's strength; she was actually feeling strained from the fight, and her palms were getting sweatier with each pull.

The paper gave in before any of the two did. It loudly ripped in half and Candlehead fell back, landing on her butt, holding the half of the rolls she had grabbed slightly disoriented. The other girl whined in pain, still grasping her half desperately. Taffyta walked up to the cake racer and easily ripped the rolled sheets from her hands.

"I don't even need to know what this is, I just need you to stop doing it, okay, Glitch? Take these as a fair warning. I'll have no problem destroying whatever you have in mind. None of us will. So stop and we'll all be fine."

She flicked the rolls to the side, stepping back. "Let go of her, Swizzle."

The girl gasped as she was released, landing on her knees, her shoulders shaking with the first hint of a sob. Taffyta made the universal gesture that ordered them all to leave, and with menacing glances towards the girl in the middle and whispers of insults that were blown in the wind, everyone stepped into their karts, revved their engines, and rode out of the scene.

Everyone, save for one.

Candlehead had stayed behind. She wasn't exactly there to help, but curiosity bugged her. The Glitch was always on her own when they found her. Why was she holding paper now? _What _was she planning? She stepped over to a roll half and kicked it softly, making it unroll.

Then, she gasped.

* * *

><p>She was restless that night. As someone who was a mechanic for fun or for the sake of the Ice Screamer, she could've recognized the drawings anywhere. They were designs for a kart, very amateurish, of course, but thoughts of engines and covers and possible wheels anyway.<p>

She felt bitterly fascinated; a thousand questions not letting her doze, regret nagging said thousand questions. How did _she_ know how to plan out a kart? Where did she get that knowledge from? Was she less of a scrapped avatar than they all thought? Was she actually going to build it _by herself_?

Could that mean she was more efficient than everyone had assumed? What if she _could_ be a racer, after all? What if she was coded to drive and repair and all the skills that came with being a racer? _Why do you think she of all people could ever do that?_

Interest bugs bit her all over, the urge to get inside her whole plan overruling her conditioned repulsion. Learning what she knew meant talking to her, talking to her meant committing a crime and she'd be dropped to the Fungeon. But the thirst for knowledge was irresistible. What if she was a bit of a mechanic, too? What if Candlehead could_ ask_ her what she knew about making karts? _Are you nuts? Talking to the Glitch about karts? Just what're you thinking about?!_

I took two hours or so of spinning pointlessly in the soft mattress, growling and hiding under the pillow in desperate insomnia, for her mind finally light a candle. Maybe, there could be a way to satisfy her eagerness, one that didn't imply doing anything illegal.

Maybe, through _observation_, she could get just what she wanted.

It was that satisfaction for how _smart_ she was that finally made her slumber.


	2. The Fascinated Observation

The One That Dares Not Call Herself A Stalker

She awoke so excited by her new prospect that the racing day went by in an ethereal manner, as if she was stuck in an odd daze. Surely her performance manifested that strange state of cloud nine; a group of disappointed fans whimpered and shook their heads sadly when they saw her walk out of the tracks because of the constant fourth through ninth places she achieved throughout the day. She ignored them. There was business to do. She didn't even make it into the next Roster.

She didn't part with much preparation. She preferred to leave the Ice Screamer behind, choosing to be more discreet. The entire point of this was not being caught _with_ her or _by_ her. The roaring of an engine didn't help either option. She convinced herself it was only the wisest thing she could do.

She parted from home in a pair of pink shorts and her usual shirt and boots, carrying a small bag with a sweet sandwich and a bottle of fresh chocolate milk, and, as a bonus, a healthy dose of confidence. She was already beginning to sweat by the time she got to the forest, and that was the first sign that maybe leaving the kart behind wasn't as wise as she had expected. She entered the forest anyway, still repeating in her mind that there was _no way_ this idea wasn't smart.

The first sounds of lollipops cracking as she landed her feet on the wild land were incredibly refreshing.

She trekked around the candy cane tree landscape fearlessly for a while, scanning every tree with her eyes and shifting her attention towards every noise, every slight cracking of lollipops, every other cracking sound the candy cane branches made when the soft breeze made them rattle. She was careless until she felt the while extend with no results, and that initial hint of worry grew into something entirely different when she saw the programmed sunset take over the sky, bathing the forest in an orange hue, and she realized she hadn't found the glitch… And she had no idea where _she_ was.

Some tracks of the game were meant to be raced in at sunset, and some under the stars and in the pitch black night. The sky turned by default to those settings when the track was selected, but King Candy had said he found a way back in 1997 to make the sky have a cycle according to the time of the day. It was usually sunset some hours after the Random Roster Race and night when it was around eleven PM in the Player's World. Avatars didn't need much sleep.

This was a fact she recounted while she sat with her back against a candy cane tree, observing the pretty mixture of red, yellow, and orange in swirly patterns above. _Things you forgot and shouldn't have forgotten: A map. Your kart. Some way of knowing where you are. Candlehead, you… _Her mind didn't even have the energy to finish the sentence.

She yawned, looking around. She was now giving up on finding the Glitch; there were more important matters at hand, like eating. Her only resource was the sandwich, her only drink the chocolate milk. _Candlehead, you…_

She groaned, hitting her head against the candy cane tree, because she wasn't getting out of this one. She felt like crying.

There was a branch lying nearby, and the dirt below her was easy to shake, she checked with her hand. Her arm drifted to the branch as if on instinct, she picked it, pressed the broken tip against the floor, guided it to create a lousy self-portrait; not having enough stamina to even worry. The reds and oranges gradually faded into beautiful pinks and purples as she doodled around: A little drawing of Taffyta, one of Rancis holding a teacup with a lifted pinky, one of those cupcakes she'd baked the week before.

By the time her hand was tired of doodling, there was a compilation of pieces around her, and the only light that made them visible was that of her candle.

The forest was scary at night. The moon made the trees project sharp shadows, spooky noises echoed around the vast space, the wind howled and shook the candy cane structures, making an impression of a stranger creeping and climbing the tall trees. She felt like monsters were about to jump from thedarkness, maybe the legendary Taffy Monster would come for her and swallow her in his icky goo while she slept…

Her stomach pleaded for food, and she reluctantly swallowed the sandwich, her eyes darting over all the landscape, looking out for the Taffy Monster. Surely it would jump out and try to bite her now—

She curled into a whimpering ball, hiding her face in her knees so she didn't have to look at the creepy landscape.

She didn't notice when she dozed off.

* * *

><p>A voice woke her up. It wasn't a voice she found very familiar. It was rough and mildly high-pitched, and though Candlehead knew she had heard it somewhere before, it was very hard to pin it down while in the daze of sleepiness.<p>

"Get up, you idiot."

And she got up and rubbed her eyes, barely keeping balance, her eyes distinguishing a silhouette about her same size.

"You got lost here? You guys just don't have any fixin', do you? You gotta be thankful I'm nice and I'm gonna get you outta here. I should leave you to respawn."

The voice still had that quality of familiarity mixed with _not_-familiarity, and she felt strange, somehow, through the veil of tiredness. "Uh, what?" she muttered, though she felt like her tongue weighed a ton.

The stranger pulled out a hand and grabbed her arm, almost tipping her over. "Walk. Follow me."

And she heard it mutter, "What a moron."

"Uh, okay," was all she managed to respond before the stranger pulled her.

"I'm gonna drop you off at the town square. From then on you're on your own. You're not my problem, pal. I don't even know why— Ugh."

"Um, okay," she repeated. She really wasn't fit to reply.

The stranger violently grabbed her from the shoulder, forcing her to walk. She stumbled to their side as they guided her, going uphill sometimes and downhill other times, creeping through branches and making their way through paths she hadn't seen once. She had a hard time seeing in the night, and the branches made spooky figures that made her want to cling to the weird guide, but closing her eyes just made her get sleepy once again.

They said nothing else.

Eventually she started seeing lights, and she felt the mysterious figure push her towards them. It took a moment through her tired brain, but she did eventually notice they were public street lights. She was safe. Whoever that was, they had saved her.

They pushed her forward, and in a moment of imbalance, she stumbled and fell over. She was beaming when she got up: that was the Town Square outskirts, a place she _could_ find her way home from. She turned around, holding back a fit of jolly laughter, and saw the silhouette standing here, hands in hoodie pockets—

The figure was also wearing a skirt—

And now she was speechless.

Her jaw fell open as the now not-so-unfamiliar person stepped back, retreating into the forest. She remembered that voice now; she remembered it _pleading_ and asking for help and screaming, "Please _stop!_"

A wave of nausea crushed her stomach, nausea that was poured in a bowl and mixed with the previous curiosity. _Why did she save you after all you've done? _

"Wait!" she yelled, as the figure stepped further into the woods, but regretted it immediately when she saw them turn around and she just _knew_ that they— No, not they anymore, _she_— was looking back at her with a weirded out face.

Her tongue tripped, her hands clenched to her jacket, she felt heat of embarrassment rise to her face and was only capable of half-heartedly spewing the first thing that came to mind. "Thank ye."

Shoulders shrouded in darkness shrugged. "You're welcome. Don't be stupid, bring a map."

Another wave of self-consciousness washed her like a cold wave, though her cheeks flushed with pure heat. "Okay, can do."

And so, _she_ was gone, between the little sound effects of the lollipops crashing under her feet.

The walk home was a sort of dream landscape trip to Candlehead. If anything, her resolution to watch her without anyone knowing, not even her, had rooted deeper with this encounter. How could it be that the Glitch, a potential murderer, had saved her from respawning from hunger? There was some sort of hidden logic fallacy in the entire world she knew, something had to be wrong with the way her worldviews had been built. Something was off about the Glitch. Then again, something was _always_ off about her.

When she arrived home, she lost all sense in the couch. She was exhausted, her body was exhausted, her mind was exhausted. She wanted to know nothing else.

* * *

><p>She spent the next day thinking of ways to refine her tactic. Her first conclusion was that she would need two things: a map of the forest and her kart; and the third thing she'd need, as a bonus, would be to know the hangouts of the Glitch, the places she had a preference for. Her body tingled with excitement. This <em>was<em> something real, something she was going to do. Maybe the Glitch had many more rolls like those? Just how far did her knowledge go? If only she could ask!

_You do not simply think of hanging out with the Glitch and get away with it. Don't be a dum dum. _

She sighed in slight disappointment the afternoon of that day, considering it wasted, save for the spending of money. She had gone to a cartography and exploration store — Sugar Rush _did_ have _all sorts_ of shops programmed in its back scene— that was precisely ran by one of her fans. The little piece of salt taffy had been so curious as for why she needed maps, and food containers, and bags, and special boots for slippery land with soles that had spikes.

She answered, "I want ta explore th' forest. Ya know, pretty landscapes 'n stuff!"

The look the fan gave her was somewhere between pleased and alarmed.

It was good being the Ditz. That was her role. It was her nature, she remembered now as she held the new Updated Sugar Rush Wild Lands Official Map; it was her nature as it had been today to hit her head against the counter while picking up spilled pancake batter. That was who she was.

_Though you gotta refine that if you're gonna watch her, girl. Gotta be like a ninja, like the guys over at the fighting game. Except for all the punching._

For the following weeks, she took mental note of where they found her. There were indeed particular clearings she preferred hanging out at, most seemingly surrounding Diet Cola Mountain. She felt like a smart, sharp adventurer marking the little clearings with a red X.

It only became more bitter now to have to insult her, and sometimes the sensation of her tongue weighing a ton returned, and her insults toned down to mild "you're dumb"s.

Sometimes, as she marked more crosses where they seemed to find her constantly, she thought of what could happen to her if she was found. Maybe King Candy would nag her, maybe he'd throw her in the Fungeon.

Maybe he'd do nothing. There couldn't be anything illegal about watching someone, right?

* * *

><p>Her second expedition, some weeks apart from the first, was far more cautious than said past failure, the caution probably stemming from the traumatic scare the woods had grazed her with. She had a special, huge bottle this time, <em>several<em> sandwiches just in case, a knife that looked out of a First-Person Shooter but that was made of solid Jawbreaker aterial, boots with special soles for unpredictable floors, a flashlight with fresh new batteries, a jacket, pants in case it got cold, and even a tent just in case she got lost and had to spend the night there. None of it was cheap, but she wasn't that bad of a racer when she put her mind to it, and Taffyta's friendship had certain… Advantages.

She had packed everything in a decently sized bag that was surprisingly not that heavy, and for the sake of her own safety, she made the trail to the woods in her kart. It was only when she was close to one of the clearings marked with many crosses that she parked, leaving the bag safely hidden under her seat, and began crawling up a hill. She could almost scream about her luck: she heard noises and a voice near the clearing. _ It has to be only natural. We have found her here many times. _

She laid on her belly, safely hidden among the lollipops and behind a thick candy cane tree, and looked just a bit to the side.

And there she was, The Glitch.

There were more sheets of what looked like improvised or stolen paper spread on the floor, and she was drawing in them with what seemed like a candy rock wrapped in licorice to form an archaic pencil. She gasped, in her mind, for even loud breathing could give her away, at how _creative _the little thingamajig was. Of course there was no way she could ever purchase a pencil, so she just… Made them herself. It was admirable.

She was hit by something that wanted to look like pity, but couldn't really be, because mercy could have her imprisoned.

The other girl talked out loud, comparing imaginary gears with hand gestures in midair, devising ways to actually sculpt them from scratch out of a hard candy sheet. Those grew in the wild, making colored transparent walls of different sizes and degrees of thickness. It was such a smart plan. Candlehead felt giddy as she saw her work on her improvised blueprints. This was a completely different kind of fascination, for she had only that of uncertainty, but this one was that of knowing, of being sure, that she was at least trying to be a proficient mechanic, and that yes, she was going to build every piece of a kart by herself.

Had she not been a massive danger for the game, Candlehead would have been wooed.

She stayed belly down, watching her plan and sketch, until the sun began to set and the other girl picked up the rolls, looked around in caution, and left, paper in hand.

While she was driving back with the aid of the map—she got a little lost, failing to locate herself accurately, and had to un-drive a section of the trail—, she had a lot of time to reflect on what she had just seen. Her mind was slower than the average to make connections, but by the time she had reached the Town Square she was absolutely sure that yes, the Glitch had something in mind, and she was definitely smarter than she had assumed, than they all thought.

The night after the second exploration was another one of restlessness, even if this time it was because she could not believe she felt longing about observing her, and she found her own interest unacceptable.

* * *

><p>Still, she never stopped watching. It became a routine, and she even found various approaches to her stealth mission: Sometimes, she stayed until she was gone after they bullied her— each time, she found herself stepping back more often, feeling queasy when the unavoidable came and Taffyta forced her to participate— and gave chase , but whenever she was close to Diet Cola Mountain, the Glitch vanished in thin air and she had to deduce her way back to the clearing, where the kart, now permanently equipped with the bag of the necessary items, awaited for her return.<p>

Some other times, she went to the forest by herself, stopping in several clearings as she looked for her. Sometimes she didn't even find her.

Months went by with this new habit, and Candlehead realized, the more she watched, that the Glitch was moving on from words to actions, gathering some of the thick hard candy sheets— her strength truly was something to admire— and improvising cutting tools that almost always broke when she forced them against the transparent, tough surface.

Usually, when she returned from those instances, she saw the cutting tools in her workshop—that she used to split a _Jawbreaker_ once—and a tingling sensation ran all over her, as if she _wanted_— Actually, truly _wanted_— to see what the Glitch would do if she had the tools.

Once, they stumbled upon each other, when she saw her vanish and returned to the Ice Screamer, only to see her there, staring at it with fascination, as if she had never been near a kart. Both noticed each other's presence around the same time and both ran as fast as their legs could carry them, screaming.

That night, while she lied on her bed, she drowned in sorrow, that face of wonder and utter amazement at the presence of a vehicle flashing in her mind when she closed her eyes.

As months went by in which she crept around the Glitch, learning more of her tactics of survival, she found herself more often thinking of _her_ around her workshop. _This saw would help her cut the hard candy sheets for the gears. She could use this to fuse her wheels to an axis. _She was mentally already building a kart for the Glitch, and the afternoon she found herself making blueprints in her living room for a kart she would never make was the afternoon she realized she was in it too much already.

But the other girl was such an efficient planner and builder. Sometimes when she saw her she was gathering materials and organizing them to try and build structures "for home," she said. She had a shelter—though Candlehead didn't know the location—, she had improvised paper and blueprints and even _pencils_, she had the intention to find materials and, somehow, she had knowledge of basic mechanics, at least to try and build an engine that wouldn't work on fuel, but peddle power—she had learned a lot by observing, just as she had expected—. Candlehead felt actual sadness realizing all the wasted potential, all because she couldn't control her glitching.

The more the idea blossomed into her head, the less twisted and wrong it seemed, despite being none other than the highest rank crime one could commit in Sugar Rush. It was the fear of pulling herself to such abyss that preserved her in her safe position…

But the more she thought about it, the more she believed maybe King Candy, the great man, was perhaps wrong somewhere.

And every time she watched her, the voice in her head that mentally gave tips to her as she tried to build grew louder.

* * *

><p>Midnight bells rang in the Player's World. Everyone screamed and laughed and went for Midnight Kisses of good luck. There was no confetti this time, but there was party foam that flew everywhere, sticking to hair and clothing. Some was about to fall in her eyes and she had to struggle to avoid the stinging sensation.<p>

This time, she did manage a picture or two with her friends, but she was never too photogenic, and the pictures didn't look exactly nice. Darn it.

She fled the party briefly after the New Years' wishes, for she had other things in mind. The year of His Majesty 2007 had just begun, and she had plans in mind, for fear had slowly dissolved as she stalked—erm, _observed—_ in 2006, and she was now ready.

That didn't stop the butterflies that fluttered all over her belly as she opened the box and began filling it with bandages and health-restoring potions, though.

Admittedly, somewhere in the back of her mind, she was still scared, and her subconscious still fought to trigger remorse, but she was currently too tired to actually think of the consequences— it wasn't like they hadn't played in a screen on her brain over and over while she was on her stealth missions, though— and she was obviously in too deep to back out anymore. She knew the plans of the Glitch, she knew what she was about to execute, and she was about to help her. She simply knew too much.

It all started here, she thought as she flopped in bed, in the year of His Majesty Two Thousand and Seven.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Here it is, the second chapter! It starts to get better from here on.

I hope you enjoy it.

And excuse me if you review and I never reply, I'm very forgetful with that stuff...


	3. The Defeat of Fear

The Defeat of the Seemingly Undefeatable Fear

"Hit her! Hit her! Hit her!"

The voices echoed around her, several different pitches and tones and colors and textures that she knew a voice could have. They all were imprinted with the same message, all filled with the same enthusiasm. It saddened her to know deep inside that some of that enthusiasm was fake, that some of the voices didn't truly _feel _as much pep as they expressed.

Still, that didn't pull her out of her situation, standing in the middle of a circle, her only other company in there being the Glitch, and the voices just _insisted_, they _invaded_ her head and left no room for thought.

"Hit her! Why ain't you brave?"

"You seriously don't wanna lash out when she's a murderer?"

Taffyta stepped forward and looked at her. Blue eyes dug into green ones. "Are you a _traitor_, Candlehead? You're seriously going to say nothing to the biggest criminal in the game?"

Her lower lip quivered.

She was right. All these ideas she had, all these things she had thought of, she had planned to do, they were all betrayal. Betrayal to her game. Betrayal to her best friend. Betrayal to the entire population.

She turned around and slapped the Glitch, wincing as she heard the little whimper that came with the impact and the cheering afterwards.

She stepped back into the circle, Taffyta patted her shoulder. "Well done," she whispered to her ear.

What she felt wasn't exactly like a knife digging in her gut, but it was somewhere between punches and stabs.

Taffyta went to the Glitch and grabbed her, pushing her to Jubileena's arms, who then pushed her to Snowanna, and so it went, in a sick round of what seemed like a ball game turning twisted. Candlehead's stomach churned, thoughts flew through her mind at the speed of lightning. On one hand, she felt gross pushing the girl around, knowing she was a little sphere of knowledge about to burst; on the other, she knew that was what was right. This girl was smart, but she was also murderous— the combination that made a psychopath.

So why did _she_ help her out of the forest?

She wanted to cry.

Her head snapped toward Taffyta's fingers instinctively, having heard the familiar little snap that signaled all of them to go. Gloyd gave the Glitch a final hit, making her land heavily in the chocolate floor. Candlehead's eyes burned, her vision blurred. Everyone was leaving, clouds of dust made traces, engines roared in her ears, but the Ice Screamer was parked where it was when they arrived, and she was still perched on the spot, unable to make her muscles move.

A single tear broke the tension in her eyes and fell freely, detoxing her body from the self-consciousness and the doubts and that voice inside that nagged, that asked, _What have you gotten yourself into? Why don't you just leave?_

"Why don't you leave?"

She flinched. Was her inner voice now actually talking to her?

A sigh escaped her lips, no, it wasn't, that was the Glitch begging for some space.

"Don't ya have stuff to do? Like kiss Taffyta's strawberry rear? You wanna stay to torture me some more? The slap wasn't enough? Then go ahead, idiot. Slap me again and see how I like it and then go tell your beloved Taffyta how good you are."

The girl's voice trembled, she breathed deeply after the short rant. She was obviously crying too. Candlehead, swimming in an ocean of remorse, turned really slowly, butterflies fluttering wildly in her belly as she readied herself to figuratively hit her face against the floor and confront this reality.

The Glitch was in the floor in all fours. Her hair covered her face, her eyes slowly lifted to meet Candlehead. "Oh? Now you're crying? Yeah, sure thing, you got a lot of reasons to be crying. Tell me about it." She lifted her hands from the dirt and wiped them on her sweatshirt, leaving a chocolate-y stain on the teal fabric.

And, despite her snarky attitude, she sniffled, running her sleeve through teary red eyes.

Candlehead bit her lower lip and lifted a hand, and the other girl instantly recoiled, taking as much of a defensive stance as she could while kneeling. It broke her heart.

But instead of hitting her like she had expected, she simply made a calming gesture, and mumbled a doubtful "wait here."

She ran to the Ice Screamer, pulled the box from underneath the seat, took it back to the other girl, sat down and opened it gently, revealing the contents inside to be healing supplies; bandages, painkillers, HP-restoring potions from RPGs. She gently picked a piece of cotton candy inside and hydrated it with an HP-restoring potion, stretching her hand out to apply it to the markings and scratches the Glitch had after repeatedly hitting the floor.

But the girl flinched instead and refused to be touched, moving back and far from her.

The cupcake racer sniffled, placed the piece of cotton candy inside the box, and slowly, gently pushed the kit towards the programming flaw, staring at her and trying to look friendly through the heavy tension of the moment.

Hesitant, the other girl finally picked the little box and the cotton candy, and rubbed it slowly through her face. A coded heart popped over her head, and the minor wounds began healing by themselves.

Then, once again, the box was gently pushed, this time back to the owner.

Heavy, if doubtful eye contact was held between the two; both amazed by the little gesture, both mutually repulsed, in a way, for their own reasons, both doubtful about their motives and about that little display of mercy that had just occurred in a world where being merciless seemed to be the rule.

Candlehead licked her lips, her voice gingerly breaking the thick tension. She slid the box back carefully. "Take it. Keep it."

"You slapped me," the other girl answered, her voice riddled with confusion. "What the heck, pal? What are you doin'?"

"You're gonna need the kit. Keep it, and when ya run out of stuff you tell me an' I'll fill it right back up."

"I don't _get_ you guys."

"I'm gonna bring ya food sumday. Ya must be hungry. How d'you get yer food?"

"Stop," the beta model said, her tone now turning frustrated. "Is this a trap? What's up with you? Are you gonna tell me where the heck is this all coming from, man?"

Candlehead sighed. "You helped me, so I'm helping ye." She crossed her legs and laid her elbows on her knees, deepening the eye contact. "Ya need the help more than I do."

The other girl shook her head and looked away, her emotion being indecipherable to Candlehead. Perhaps it was too complex; too far out of the simple spectrum of angry, happy, sad, surprised for her to understand. What enigmas laid below the surface they all scraped when they went to tease her?

Her hazel eyes returned to meet with the cupcake racer's green, slightly hesitant in doing so. "Do you bring maps now?"

The corners of the minty girl's lips pulled up in a fashion that she could never stop, that was almost against her will. Warm satisfaction made a cocoon around her. There they were. The outcast and the elite inhabitant. Talking to one another, shyly, tentatively, but talking anyway. "Yes, every time. An' I also bought some boots and a knife an' some survival stuff…"

"Good to know," the other girl said. Her emotion was still a riddle. She nodded lightly.

They were silent for a few minutes.

"You've been watching me."

Candlehead's newfound calmness exploded in less than a second, being replaced by an intense shame. _She actually found you out! _

She opened her mouth, hints of a voice trying to push out of her throat to no avail. "I…I- Uh…" she stuttered, but there was no valid excuse, no explanation she could give aside of senseless stalking.

"Don't talk. I know this all is maybe like, a trap. Watching me, and then one day you pretend like you like me and then make like a surprise attack or something. I see through it, I'm not dumb. I'm not like you, pal."

_Ouch_.

She had no response for that.

A familiar voice echoed in the distance. "Candlehead? Where are you?"

A male voice chimed in. "Dude, you think she's here? She's been leaving to strange places for so long now to do her weird girl things. Why would we come back?"

"Shut up, Rancis! We just left this place. She's been acting all weird…"

The Glitch recoiled. She looked over at Candlehead in a hybrid of despair and anger, as if she had just discovered her suspicion to be true, but she wasn't expecting what the cake girl did.

"Quick!" she said, approaching the code flaw. "Pretend yer cryin' an' I'm attackin' you! Let me grab yer sweatshirt—" she still fought back, even as Candlehead explained her intentions. "Good! Fight back! Make her think we were—!"

"Candlehead?" Taffyta asked, observing the awkwardly posed girls, her eyes filling with disgust when she turned to the Glitch. "What the fudge are you doing?"

"Oh, you know," she said, shaking the other girl by the collar of her hoodie. Hazel eyes shot confusion at her, and a stern stare was the answer. "Givin' this disgusin' code flaw extra dibs by myself, since I didn't do anythin' at all…"

The Glitch's eyes were filled with such wonder that she couldn't help but feel slightly warm inside.

"Don't worry, Taffy, I'm almost leavin'. Just giving this gal an extra lesson for bein' a gross Glitch!"

Taffyta nodded, not buying it entirely. "Yeah, okay, whatever. I'm gonna try not worrying about you…" she put her lollipop back in her mouth, not even finishing the sentence.

"You guys go an' I'll catch up with you later!" She nodded over to Rancis, desperately hoping they would fall for the ruse.

They turned around, giving her one last confused, and slightly worried, glance, and left with doubtful steps. Candlehead didn't change her stance until the steps weren't lost in the forest. She let the other girl go, and said girl fell with a loud _thud_. She sighed. "Close call. I gotta go."

"Sheesh, thanks for the _compliment _back there," the Glitch said, readjusting her hoodie. "Listen, I have no idea what you're doin', you're a weirdo. I'm gonna keep an eye on you."

"I had ta make them buy it," she said. Her eyes sunk, her stance was rigid, she faced the forest rather than her newfound acquaintance. "I'm… I'm sorry."

Had she been facing the Glitch, she would have seen her surprised face, the way her eyes widened, the way her jaw fell and her arms limped weakly to her sides. It took her a second to regain her composure, and her face of wonder snapped back to the same confusing emotion when Candlehead looked back at her. "Gotta go or I'll get caught. I'll see you tomorrow. Bye, glitch."

The girl answered a frustrated "glitch is not my name."

"Ya have a name?" She gasped mildly, turning her head around.

She was looking back with an exact same dose of confusion. "You guys didn't even know I had one? Holy crepe. I'm feeling so _praised_, right now." She fanned herself with her hand, pretending to be glamorous.

Candlehead was somewhere between angry and amused, feeling an equal urge to punch her in the arm and to laugh at her antics.

And, as such, her voice transmitted exactly that. "We jus' thought yer name was 'glitch' or somethin'." She scratched her arm bashfully, looking down, but a smirk was still pushing through. _How dumb it sounds when you put it like that. _

"Y'all are dumb," the other girl said, echoing her thoughts. "Well I do. Though I believe Miss Taffyta's Friend can't give a crepe."

"She does give a crepe," Candlehead shot back.

"Name's Vanellope," was the answer. "The smartest, strongest, best-est girl around the Candy Cane Forest. Ya'll know no better." A tilted, smug smile was plastered on her face. "Go have that and get creative. I'll give ya one: Y'all can call me _Vanilla Pee_. I thought that one up."

Candlehead's smirk fell, her hands reached into her pockets uncomfortably. "Nah," she mumbled. "They dun have ta know." Her mouth traced a little pout. She looked at her one last time, feeling awkward. "Bye then, Vanellope. Oh, my name is—"

"Unlike you, I _did_ have the courtesy to learn the names of y'all," she replied. "Your name is—" she didn't finish the sentence, instead pointing at her hat and her head in succession.

_Oh, how clever_.

"Good ta know ya know it," she mumbled. "Goodbye."

"Bye."

The farewell was about as uncomfortable as she had estimated for it to be. She walked back to the Ice Screamer, looked back one last time, and leaped into it, driving towards the Town Square.

* * *

><p>Many of the racers were gathered at a café in the middle of the Square, and she tried to glide by them as stealthily as possible. She didn't feel like being social— She felt like thinking a lot about the name Vanellope and, what was even more important, she felt like <em>baking<em>. She _had_ to.

Still, even if she tried to camouflage herself in the crowd, that didn't make her deaf to the conversation being had in the café.

"…And she said she was giving the Glitch extra dibs," That was absolutely Taffyta's voice, and it seemed quite pleased. "I'm glad."

"I'm glad too," now _that_ was Rancis. "She has been going out a lot of time and acting all weird around the Glitch, but I'm glad she's doing that stuff. I don't want her to do wrong."

A bitter smirk was born in her face. _If only you knew. _

"I get you guys." That voice must have been Gloyd. "I wouldn't want any of us to be put in the Fungeon or that stuff. We're all friends, like, even if I prank you," laughter circled that phrase. "So, yeah, I got a little worried when you said that too. She's our friend and all."

Several voices replied to that last statement, some with agreement, some with contribution. She was hopefully far enough from the café to not listen to them.

Still, her slight happiness was now surrounded by fog.

They were still right. Maybe she could thing the Gl— Vanellope was cool, but not everyone did—

She was the only one who did, in fact.

And those comments were her bitter return to reality.

* * *

><p><em>I'll see you tomorrow<em> was not said in vain. Indeed, the next day, Candlehead went to the forest again, the whole place now surrounded by familiarity. Just like before, she looked for her over every clearing, and eventually found her and snuck behind the thick trees, routine being kept holy until now.

Vanellope was sketching some figures for a possible engine in the chocolate sand, and she felt slightly pitiful, for many of her ideas could only end in a weak result— She needed help.

Candlehead knew she needed help since a long time ago, but just now— Just now after talking to her, after seeing her act in a context in which she wasn't being tortured— Only _now_ she decided that maybe, she should stop caring so much.

She nagged herself for feeling sad the other day at the café. _They have never talked to her. You have. Not too much, but you will talk to her more now. They don't know her. They haven't seen her like you have_.

That seemed to be enough to reassure herself that yes, she could gladly prove everyone wrong and not regret it.

And so, breathing heavily, She stepped out.

What she was not expecting was Vanellope's reaction.

She had been crouching to draw on the chocolate sand, but she stood up and instantly grabbed a nearby, snapped branch, pointing a sharp end to her. _A weapon? _

"I knew it! You got them all her for a surprise attack! Step back! I have a weapon!" she shouted, taking a defensive stand and holding the candy cane tight. "_**If you don't leave me alone right now I swear I'll make you all respawn!**_"

"_**RELAX!**_" Candlehead shrieked, stepping back. "Let th't go! 'M alone! I'm not here to hurt ya!

They stared at each other for a few seconds, Vanellope's angry face transforming into a dumbfounded one, her relaxing slightly. She looked mildly embarrassed.

"Sheesh, girl!" added the minty girl. "Ya gave me one good scare! We talked yest'rday! Do ya have anythin' in yer memory file?"

Finally relaxing fully, Vanellope dropped the candy cane branch to one side. "Dude, you've tortured me for nine years. I don't trust you. I don't. Okay? Get that in your candle head."

Candlehead rolled her eyes, trying not to lose her cool, though the comment _did_ touch her. "Hilarious. I'm gunna laugh m' butt off."

The glitch didn't reply, but she did have a tentative smirk, and that was enough to the cake racer.

There was a jawbreaker nearby, random gummies and candy of several types growing on the floor of the clearing, as if everything invited one to sit and say there for a long time. Candlehead plopped herself down on the Jawbreaker. She was amazed at how quick she gained confidence with her now former victim. "Well I have news for Miss Vanellope," she said, attempting at being a snarker like her new acquaintance. "They say that she's gunna have ta trust me."

"Why?"

"Oh, you'll see." Just then, she flinched and gasped, remembering the little present she had brought, but left behind after parking the kart. "Oh gosh! I forgot sumthin'! Wait a sec' here!"

She lifted herself off the Jawbreaker and ran out of the clearing and a few steps inside the forest, seeking her kart. A paper bag was safely stored under the seat where the box had been, and she held it gingerly, trying not to damage what was inside. She was beaming at her return, holding out the bag to her. "I said I'd bring you food an' I did. Cupcakes for you."

Vanellope stared at her in confusion for a few seconds, still out of habit in what concerned being tended to. She sheepishly received the bag and opened it, and inside indeed were cupcakes, though the frosting was slightly out of place. But she didn't care at all. That was food. Food for _her_.

She took out a cupcake and bit it generously, moaning at the creamy sensation of the frosting and the gently sweet taste. It was fluffy and soft, and the taste of the frosting and the cupcake itself combined was something worth preserving in the back of her mind forever. She didn't even bother swallowing to compliment the baked treats. "They're sho good," she said, the speech muffled by the mashed cupcake in her mouth. A glitch rippled through her, and Candlehead observed it in interest as it happened and afterwards, while she kept on chewing.

"Thanks," she replied, her voice a bit lost.

They stayed in silence for a while, its only breaks being the various chewing sounds, compliments, and glitches the beta model had as she happily swallowed the entire cupcake bag. The minty racer said nothing, but she was pleased deep inside, a pleasure mixed in with a bit of pity. She probably had nothing that good to eat for a long while… If ever. Did everything doing with her have to be bittersweet?

She offered her some chocolate milk when the glitch asked something to drink, and kept on observing, as she was used to, while she finished eating, and even afterwards, as she patted her belly and sighed with massive satisfaction. Such happiness was just contagious.

Once she considered it a bit respectful, she broke the silence again. "R'member I said ya should trust me?" she asked, thinking of how to take the subject and not be so blunt.

Vanellope nodded, turning to face her.

"Yer makin' a kart, right?"

Another nod. "Why?" she was wary again, observing her with narrow eyes. "What're you gonna do to it?"

Candlehead chose not to respond in favor of approaching her offer in her own way. "You have tried to start buildin'… But the tools dun work."

There was no answer.

"Yer designs after seeing ya couldn't use hard candy are weak. You can't build an engine outta wafer, ya gotta use hard candy or Jawbreaker unless ya want a peddle kart. Gears will have a lotta friction, the material's gotta be stubborn, but ya need special saws to cut Jawbreaker an' hard candy, an ye better not make the gears anythin' but Jawbreaker because even hard candy melts."

Once again, she kept quiet, and Candlehead just kept on rambling. "Ya have very good ideas, an' I love yer blueprints, but we gotta do sumthin' more. Yer not gunna win a race in the karts you've thought up. What I'm sayin' is… you can't do this alone. Yer very good, but you have no tools an' it's sad, ye, but you have never touched a kart."

Vanellope's eyes fell. "I know that. All I know is from some book I stole from the library. What do you think, ya think I got it easy? All your folk won't let me race," she turned away, subconsciously building a wall between her and Candlehead. "So that's what you came to do, you came to offer me food so you could crush my dreams. Just leave if it's what you wanna do. I'm gonna be a racer, I don't give a fudge what all your pals or you say. And here I was thinking you could be cool. You're all the same."

Candlehead stood up, not willing to give up, not even now that she was frustrated and stubborn. "Or maybe you jus' need help. Don't ya think?"

Unbeknownst to her, Vanellope's eyes widened in anticipation. "What?"

"Ye. You dun have the tools or th' expertise or th' kart ta look at an' get a reference from. But ya know who does because she's a racer? Me."

The glitch's head snapped and her eyes dug into those of the cake racer.

"You need help, Vanellope. You gotta learn ta make a good kart by yourself, because the whole bakery doesn't want ya there. A whole kart. From scratch. And ya gotta control yer glitchin' or something bad's gunna happen."

She couldn't be aware of it, but Vanellope's heart was beating so hard she felt it was going to explode out of her chest.

"V'nellope, I have watched ya for half a year, if not more. There's a lotta things we gotta arrange right now, but…

I wanna help ya make a kart. An' I'm gonna."


	4. The Female 9 Year Old National Criminal

**A/N: fourth chapter. There is a slight time gap intended between the cuts; something like one or two days. **

**Enjoy! **

* * *

><p>The Female Nine Year Old National Criminal<p>

"You?" Vanellope asked, a look of confusion painted all over her face so obviously Candlehead actually felt kind of pitiful. "_You're _going to help me make a _kart_?"

She shrugged, trying to brush off the mental nagging, the constant loop in her mind that said _you're getting into trouble, there's no backing out, you can't undo this, you're breaking the law_. "I have th' tools, th' knowledge an' the will."

"But… Why?" She looked so puzzled. Was it really that hard for her to believe there was someone out there willing to fight with her?

Candlehead bit her lower lip, her own daringness meeting her own not-daringness in an awkward clash that built a storm in her innards. "Well why not?"

Vanellope had no answer, she just slowly shook her head and stared at her in disbelief.

The mint girl felt so painfully awkward. Her mind wrote several sentence beginnings to no avail. She had a mental stutter, trying to somehow break her confusion to make her focus on the topic at hand.

She wished she hadn't been as blunt as she was. "alright then, stop givin' me fool eyes an' let's get to the plannin', shall we?"

The glitch chuckled. "You're serious," she said, her speech slower that usual. "You're doing this for real."

"I never said I was jokin'."

The mint racer wasn't sure where her smug responses were coming from. She sometimes thought, in sleepless nights, that there were sides to her that she had no idea existed until they manifested, and that she was dumb enough to not even fully know _herself_. Facing situations was her way to discover more sides to the multi-faceted tridimensional form that was her own being. This daring, snarky, adventurous side was something new.

"I can't believe it."

_I can see it all over your face, girl. _

"Focus, V'nellope. Makin' a kart isn't like a nice stroll in th' Town Square Park. We gotta plan it super well, or we'll be in trouble if th' King finds out."

"We? Sounds like too much people to me. That guy wouldn't want _you_ ta help me out."

"_We,_" Candlehead repeated. "That guy doesn't want me ta help _YOU_ out."

The other girl seemed to be finally assuming that no matter where she went, Candlehead would put her back into place. _Maybe there is nothing to do but trusting her_.

"Now," the mint girl said, snapping her out of her brief reflection . "We gotta get back ta plannin', ye?"

Vanellope sat down in front of her, her expectation for whatever came next growing by the second as the reality of what was going on finally sank. It didn't seem like a senseless lie that would end in torture anymore, but something actually legit. She wished someone—someone other than Candlehead— could pinch her, just to fact-check it wasn't some construct of her mind or a dream. "What have ya got in mind, pal? I hope you _do_ have something, maybe something smart, after the map incident…"

"That was sumthin' else!" The other one replied, embarrassment rising to her face in a matter of seconds. She would have thought they were allies now. "I've had much more time ta think this over." She actually was kind of ashamed at how _well_ she had thought everything out, based on her observation and the tools she disposed of. She was sure that, more than brainstorming, this session would be more about _her_ explaining her plan. "How much time d'ya think I've been watchin' you?"

"I dunno. I just found your kart one day, and other days you were just so obvious. I'm not shocked, not after that one night—"

"Will ya _stop_ remindin' me of that?!" she interrupted, flustered. "Okay, th' point is, I've been watchin' ya since June last year!" She tried her best to ignore Vanellope's weirded out look, her face that said 'stalker' all over. "Dun ask. The _real_ point is, I've somethin' planned out."

"Yeah, okay," Vanellope said, her look of distrust not vanishing. "But I hope ya didn't see me use the potty—"

"_VANELLOPE! _Please try to— Try to pay attention ta this thing, will ya?!"

The glitch laughed, obviously finding joy in her flustering. She wondered if this was some sign that she was warming up, or just a low-scale revenge for… Everything.

"Okay, so here's the thing," Candlehead started, finally summoning her attention.

* * *

><p>"<em>First, we gotta make some rules that I have ta tell ya.<em>"

"Okay," Candlehead said, a paper sheet placed on the floor and between them. "I am a racer an' what we're doin' is really dangerous, but ye have much potential, so we're gunna have ta make rules so it's nice for the both of us."

Vanellope nodded, ignoring the disappointment echoing inside. It was obviously not going to be so easy.

"Rule one: no goin' to the kart bakery. It's glitch-proof. Yer forbidden there an' every move you make there is recorded and I can't keep up with makin' some excuse for _a whole kart_. We're makin' this ourselves. No kart bakery."

She took the pen she had brought and scrabbled on the paper _NO KART BAKERY_.

The glitch bit her lower lip, but ultimately agreed. That meant they would not have a real kart, an official, race-licensed vehicle. Still, it was better than nothing. "Okay."

"Rule two: Your kart won't be exactly like ours. Ya were makin' peddle powered machines, an' the blueprints we make are goin' to be for a kart with _peddle power_. It can have an engine and so, but you're not gunna have the pedals and thingies _our_ karts do. Too dangerous. I'm gonna help you with all that thing of plannin' how to mix peddles with engines."

Again she wrote, this time _NO GAME-LICENSED-LIKE KARTS._

The other girl sighed. Yes, sure, Candlehead could not be as friendly as she expected. _You're still not supposed to exist. What she's doing… it's just good will_.

"Rule three: You won't be a racer unless you earn it."

Okay, now _that_ made her snap. "Whaddaya mean I won't be a racer?! Then what is this whole business for? Decoration?!"

"Calm down," was the stern reply. "I'm gunna get you inside a _Random Roster Race_. If ya win, ya'll be a racer. That's up to you, jus' like it's up to us, every day, in the Random Roster Race. And rule four: You gotta learn to handle that glitch. Glitch once in a true race, and we're done for. It ends. Bye. Game over."

The glitch gulped, recoiling slightly at the stern reaction and the end warning. It was truly dangerous. She guessed she'd have to practice controlling it on her own. She had been capable of handling it to her own advantage after nine years of coexistence with it. Maybe, if she tried hard enough, for her dream, she'd be able to make it bend to her will under the pressure of races.

"Okay," she accepted, mildly intimidated.

Candlehead wrote _YOU WILL EARN YOUR PLACE _and _CONTROLLED GLITCHING_ on the paper and handed it over to Vanellope. "These are our rules. Remember them."

* * *

><p>"<em>I've been leaving for a while now, so Taffyta and Rancis and all th' others probably don't think it's suspicious. So 'm gonna come help ya here after I'm done with the races an' some days when I dun make it into the Roster.<em>

_The first thing we have ta do is blueprints, but you obviously know only th' basics, so really, when we think about it step-by-step, the first step is ya learn a bit about what yer goin' to build."_

"Okay, there she is." She pointed over to the Ice Screamer, stopped and willing. She pulled a toolbox out of the kart's rear and dropped it next to Vanellope, opening it. Various wrenches of diverse sized and miscellaneous tools were stored inside. "Every racer has one o' these box babes. But since ya dun have one, we gotta share mine." She smiled, and just then, she popped the front of the kart right open, exposing the engine.

She couldn't help but smile at Vanellope's face as she peeked over thecomplex machinery, staring at it as if it was something sacred. Her eyes practically sparkled as she took in all the detail of the candy parts, looking over and over and over at every bit.

It took a a while for the candle expert to pull out the engine, but once she had it in her hands, it was much easier to explain. "Okay, so you see this little thingamajig?" she pointed at a little gear and set it in motion. "That's the point o' the whole thing, makin' the little thingamajig spin. Yannow why? B'cuz the thingamajig sets this little other thingamajig in motion." She stood up and guided Vanellope to the now-split-in parts Ice Screamer—she _did_ have to move a lot to remove the engine—, and pointed at another small gear in the rear axle. "R'member the chain I had ta pull out to get th' engine out? Well th't chain connects the two thingamajigs, so when one moves, the other moves too, and since the engine is strong, the spinnin' goes very fast. An' that's how karts work, that's how they move an' go fast."

She walked over to the front axle. "These wheels do nothin'. They might as well not spin, but then th' kart wouldn't move, so they're very loose an' when the back wheels spin, these follow. But these are attached to the steering wheel," she traced the whole connection with her finger. "So when ya steer, these follow the direction of yer steerin' while the back wheels always go straight. So, puttin' it easy: Back wheels move the thing, and front wheels control the direction. Didja get all that?"

Vanellope nodded, taking in all the information. "Can we split the engine out?"

"It's too complicated," Candlehead said. "It'd take _hours_ ta put it back, an' I usually dun dig on it unless something needs fixin'. But dun worry, that's the one part we don't gotta make blueprints for."

"Why not?" the glitch asked, sitting down and moving the small gear, touching the whole engine all over in interest. "Where will you get the engine from that _isn't_ the kart bakery?"

"R'member I said I had the knowledge? Let's say I… Kind of know how to use a lawnmower engine as an engine for a kart."

Vanellope looked up. "You're for real? How do you even know _that_!?"

She stifled a giggle and scratched the back of her head awkwardly. "I've tried lots o' stuff, but I don't tell anyone."

"Why not? I'd _die_ to know all these tricks if I was a racer."

Candlehead tried to not let that part get to her too bad. "B'cause no one ever asks."

The glitch was silent for a few seconds in reflection. "You… don't have exactly the best reputation over there, do you?"

Candlehead's eyes fell, she smiled, but the smile was nothing but an empty gesture of her mouth. "I was programmed with low AI. I'm not a good racer by default, 'm very clumsy, I forget everythin' all the time, I'm no good at leadin'… I even have a coded weird speech pattern. That's why I talk weird. An' I guess they dun look any further than that. I had ta force myself to learn an' remember and try and move with my two left feet. 'S great effort to learn everythin', an' I sort of have a fame of bein' an idiot with them."

She sighed. "But there are good things ta that. They never suspected me, not even when I came to watch you. They jus' thought I was doin' weird things an' left me alone. It's a double-edged sword."

Vanellope said nothing back, merely staring at the floor and twiddling her thumbs, slightly uncomfortable. "They're always jerks."

"Taffy's my friend," she answered, thoughtful. "Rancis is my friend too. But they dun like to look at my drawings or read my stories… They like th' cupcakes, though. And they always take care of me…

"I guess 'm jus' not like them. Maybe it was my AI or… something."

Awkward, heavy, almost painful silence fell over the scene.

Candlehead was the first to pop it with a fingertip. "Anyway, I forgot to tell you that the engine works with hot diet cola extracted from springs spread over Sugar Rush, and that what it does is get into the engine through a tube, where it is combusted…"

* * *

><p>"<em>So after you learn what you gotta learn, we can get started with the actual thing. Ya can help me make blueprints for what you want the wheels an' the exterior to be like, an' I'll solve the inner problems like the engine stuff."<em>

Candlehead peered over the drawing. "If yer gonna use cake like me, make sure the dough is really consistent because cake's really soft. 's a tough material for an exterior. The one part I dun like of the Ice Screamer. May I suggest cookies?"

"But cookies have to be baked to make the shape of a cover, " Vanellope said, "and you said no bakery."

"Good point," she replied, still looking at the drawings. " You know what I think would make a cool kart? Candy cane. We just gotta saw a section off the trees and hollow it. I have th' tools for all that. And it's resistant."

Vanellope looked up. "I like your idea." She took her improvised pencil and started sketching in yet another sheet of paper, using the candy cane idea. "Though the kart will end slightly thick."

"Rancis' kart is very thick, but it still can move quite well. Ya should be fine."

The glitch shrugged in silent and continued drawing while Candlehead went back to disassembling the engine, sacrificing her lawnmower. "Vanny, did ya—"

"Vanny?"

"What, didja just want me to call you Vanellope von whatever every time I wanna call you? That's a mouthful!"

"It's _von Schweetz_," Vanellope corrected, frustrated. "At least I have a last name." she started sketching out wheels. Cookies seemed to be resistant enough. She didn't like donuts; they seemed too fragile, too prone to breaking, and too soft. Cookies were far more solid, even easier to find in the Junkyard.

A loud _clank_ echoed as the lawnmower moaned in complaint at the removal process. "Hey, I know my creators weren't th't _creative_, but I can't help m' name, " she said, and added a slightly sad "just like my AI."

Vanellope looked further down, not at the drawing anymore, but at her own legs below the drawing board she had borrowed from the mint racer. In a way, they were both outcasts, even if what Candlehead had to face wasn't nearly as brutal. There was no point of comparison, but Candlehead wasn't fully accepted in her peer circle, either. She said they all treated her like a friend and tried to understand her, but the muttering about her accidents and her racing skills and other things behind her back was incessant. She wondered why, why would this benevolent and multi-talented girl be ignored because of…

_Because of something in her code, just like you_.

"Vanny?"

She snappedback to reality. "Yeah?"

"Can I call you 'Vanny'?"

She laughed. _Silly thing, you_. "You already did. I see no problem."

The lawnmower's frame creaked. The engine was loosening. "Good."

Vanellope turned her attention back to her sketches: If there was something their encounters always centered on, it was conversation and awkward silence in a permanent loop, until the moment their meetings ended.

"Hey," she called, after the needed while of silence cut only by the noises of the lawmmower and the pencil against the paper.

"Hm?"

"Aren't you sad to sacrifice the lawnmower?"

She laughed. "I could go to jail for this. Helpin' out any potential permanent damage to the game, like an unpluggin', is Game Treason of the highest caliber. You can get yer code deleted for this stuff. I can be thrown in the Fungeon because everyone says you can cause permanent damage, but 'm still here. The lawnmower means nothin'."

Vanellope lost her concentration once again, the pencil drooping to her side. _Yet she's still here. _"Why… Why are you doing this? Why are you helping me if everyone says it's wrong?"

Candlehead tossed the lawnmower aside and wiped her forehead. The sun was strong in Sugar Rush, and its heat—stronger at forest clearings—, mixed with the exercise, had gotten to her eventually.

"Well," she started, "I know 's dangerous, and all th't stuff, but I saw you plannin' karts an' fighting so bad for yer dream and you jus'… Looked like you had the potential. I feel you'd be a good racer if you didn't have the glitch thing. You could say I have faith in ya." She chuckled after that, taking a deep breath and returning to the lawnmower.

The apparatus finally gave in, and she dropped it next to herself. "Th' powerhouse for yer kart. Come look at it."

Vanellope put the drawing board aside and moved over to the engine, observing it with curiosity. "Well, whatever you said. I'm leaving this one on your hands."

"Trust me, 's gonna be fine." She patted it, content with the result of her work. "As I was gonna say before, Vanny, didja see the paper rolls I brought? Ya should. Those are blueprints. I had to stay up late," she giggled, "but I managed to solve our main dealie. I found a way to connect peddles to th' engine so you can impulse it with each push you give. Ya jus' leave that to me."

The other girl smiled, staring at the motor with hopeful eyes.

"Now," the mint racer continued, "we need a place to move this thing to. Yannow. Like a place to store th' kart parts."

* * *

><p>"<em>Yannow what the good thing is? They aren't gunna notice and I can shrug them off easily while we gather the materials and so."<em>

"Where are you going with that saw?"

Candlehead abruptly stopped the kart. _I'm going to the forest with that saw to cut down a candy cane tree that we're going to need to make a kart for the Glitch. Nothing of your business, friend_.

She froze in the seat, unable to make up an excuse in such a short amount of time. Taffyta was already approaching her, and she was sweating cold. _Think. Think. Think of something_.

"Seriously, Candles, you've been leaving places for a long time now, but you never bought anything like that with you. What exactly have you been doing for more than half a year?"

Taffyta hopped out of the Pink Lightning, the exact way she had actually managed to approach her fast enough to ask about the saw, and put her forearms in the door of the Ice Screamer.

Candlehead drummed her fingers on the steering wheel. She had nothing.

"You haven't been going with us when we go for the Glitch, also. Candlehead, I don't know what you're doing, but that's Game Treason. King Candy told us a long time ago. Have you forgotten all about it?" Her tone was legitimately riddled with concern and compassion. "I don't want my best friend in jail because she has been doing her own… unique things. Leave that saw aside. We have to go push her back today. It looks that whatever she has planned, she has advanced in it. Please come with us and stay out of trouble."

The cake racer bit her lower lip. "When are you going for her?"

The strawberry girl sucked on the lollipop a little. "Right now, that's why I was looking around for you. I'm sure your little cabin in the woods can wait. We have to go. _You_ have to go."

A chill shot up the other girl's back. _No. Please not right now_. She shuffled uncomfortably in her seat. There was no time. No time to tell Vanellope, so she wouldn't wait for her eagerly. No time to explain that she still had to camouflage between the racers before it all occurred. No. She'd had to betray her then and there, with no reason whatsoever.

It was all fun and games until reality came to slap her in the face, and it was sure to give her a regular slap.

There was also no excuse to say no to her best friend.

"Alright. I'll get back to workin' after we're done with this."

Taffyta's expression of concern softened in relief. "I'm glad. Please don't give us that kind of scare. We worry about you, even if you're a little weirdo, you know."

And with that, she got up in the Pink Lightning. "I'll meet you at the forest edge, if you don't follow me, that is." She revved up her engine and shot one last glance towards the cake kart. "I won't go without you. I don't want you having problems."

And so, she was gone.

Candlehead felt like she could throw up that instant. That was nausea, actual nausea, as she recognized she had been bonding with the other girl and how dangerous it was, as what she was about to do finally sunk in with all its consequences and as her mind played imaginary flashes of Vanellope's reaction when she attacked out of the blue.

She checked under the seat. At least her personal first aid kit was there. She had a mean to redeem herself.

_Maybe shrugging them off isn't going to be as easy, _she thought, remembering her speech to Vanellope the day of the agreement. _We're going to have to plan something for this stuff._


	5. The Fem 9 Year Old National Criminal, II

The Female Nine Year Old National Criminal, II

"Oh, I'm so sorry. I'm so… I'm so sorry…"

The sounds of engines roaring were only now fading in the distance, but there she was, still standing, still seeing who she had hit, who she had harmed.

It was nothing short of terrible.

"We…" she gulped. She was gesturing maniacally, her hands went to and fro, they fiddled with the zip in her jacket and ran through her green hair. "We hafta plan somethin' for when they want me to…"

She crouched next to Vanellope and her hands reached out to meet her, now gently, but she was welcomed by nothing but harshness. She wasn't surprised at all, but that didn't mean it was painless and she could just let it slip, no; it _hurt_ and it dug in her chest like a dagger and she felt like she was slowly melting, but not in a nice way, but in a _dissolving in lava in a horror movie _kind of way.

An elbow pushed her hands away, the other girl opened the distance between them, scooting far from her. And she felt like she was snapping.

"How could you?! I thought you were on my side!" she shrieked, and the sound pierced Candlehead's ears and soul simultaneously. "You're just a traitor. You all are nothing to trust. I hate you, I hate you and I hate Taffyta. Don't touch me," she stopped, breathed hard, wiped her red, tear-stained cheeks with a hoodie sleeve. Her voice cracked with glitching and sadness and sobs. "Stay away from me, you _rat_."

And then, she snapped.

It was like a dam had broken in her innards. There was no speech impediment, no slow voice that changed pitch. There was only screaming.

"Oh, _rat?! I'm th' rat?! I'll tell you something here, young woman,_" she growled, but took a deep breath before continuing… It didn't work in the slightest.

"_I HAD TO. I had to do it. _You wanna know why? Because if all of my wonderful friends—" she stomped a foot on the chocolate floor. "—find out I'm helping the one and only Glitch out," she poked Vanellope with a hard index finger, making her glitch. Her hand returned back to being a ball on her side. "I'll get deleted!" She grinned, a bitter smile that dripped sarcasm. "'M gonna get my code erased, and I'm gonna die, and no one will remember me, and if ya, friend, don't learn to handle that pretty glitch, we're all gonna die. Ya could kill us all, _and here I am still helping you_. I gotta play a game of pretend to, ya know, _help you out so you can be a racer_. Go ahead!" She yelled, throwing her hands in the air. "Call me a rat again! Call me a rat while here I am, a nine year old girl, breaking her back to help the greatest criminal in her game," she stopped and breathed. Her sigh transformed, it shook and broke and gently slid the transition to a sob.

"Because I saw talent in her an' wanted her to be happy." She sensed the weird accent coming back, but ignored it in favor of the bitter sorrow. "I jus' wanted everyone ta be happy. Them an' you. I thought you'd make a good racer…" she said no more and just plopped to the floor, fingers tangling in her hair. She didn't even bother to hold back the crying. Indeed. There she was, a nine year old doing all of this for the sake of _happiness_. That reason wouldn't help her in a trial.

Vanellope was crying openly too. She scooted to her softly, her arms tentatively embraced the girl. She didn't react to the contact, and so they were, both of them crying, two binary souls sharing common sorrow in the infinity of code.

They didn't talk for the rest of that day and, when Candlehead finally stopped crying, she handed over the saw without breaking the silence and left. Words could wait until both of them had cooled down.

* * *

><p>Salutations were awkward next day. They had barely just said hello when the mint racer sat in front of the glitch and said a stern "we have to plan for when they want me ta hurt you."<p>

And the glitch just half-frowned, not daring to look at her yet, not after the blatant betrayal and the intense interaction. "Why?"

"B'cause I don't wanna hurt you anymore."

"They will, anyway," Vanellope replied, still cold, still sternly forcing a wall between the two.

"That doesn't mean I hafta. I have a… first aid kit. I could help ya after they're done…"

The glitch shrugged, not yet opening herself to the mint racer. Eye contact was scarce and almost painful.

Candlehead cleared her throat. "I have a plan."

Vanellope still didn't pay her much attention. "What you got in mind? Surprising and un-surprising me in a loop until we get tired?"

Candlehead sighed heavily, not ready to deal with her stubbornness. "No. I say we fake it. Yannow, if I pick ya by th' ponytail an' ya shake her head around, it looks like I'm pullin' yer hair. You know, stuff like that. And after they're done, I'll help ya out with the wounds."

A blink was the sole reply, followed by a shaky voice. "You're seriously going to go through all that trouble?"

The mint girl nodded. "Can't be tougher than the kart." She smiled half-heartedly.

And finally, the glitch girl weakened.

The incident had caused her much confusion. She had expected the other girl to stand up for her. Bitter betrayal and recrimination that she should have expected it had hit her like a brick. But now, her she was. Admitting her guilt. Offering a second option.

She sighed and nodded. "Alright."

They spent the whole afternoon rehearsing it.

* * *

><p>Smoothly, like a ride on a slide's park, their almost broken bonds fixed and improved. They bonded over building the vehicle, and the more they spoke, the more Vanellope found herself telling her all about her life, and how she'd built her shelter (despite never revealing to her where it was), and how she got food, and how she learned to sew and cook and do breakdance and many other things on books. Candlehead had given her a stern speech of morality when she said all the books were stolen from the town library, but she'd just replied that she read because it was the best way to kill time when she felt lonely, and that had been enough to shut her up and leave her there, dumbfounded, somewhere between surprised and hurt. The glitch was surprised at how easy it was to make her snap, and admittedly did so for her own amusement from time to time.<p>

As strong as their bonds grew, so did the vehicle in their hands. Vanellope was often surprised at the wide array of tools the cupcake girl had to work with, and guiltily found herself envying them.

Soon enough, surely, the kart was big enough to not be able to be properly hidden between the candy cane branches, below a clever taffy disguise.

That was the day the glitch made a decision, although it was one that initially made her stomach churn with fear.

"We can't hide th' kart here anymore," Candlehead had observed, as always a bit slower than Vanellope did. "'s too big. We're gonna get caught." And so, just like that, she was lost in thought again, staring at the half- made axles and carcass they had broken their backs crafting.

Vanellope gulped and stared away. She couldn't look in her eyes while she betrayed herself. "I got a place where we can hide it," she said, trying to make it look absent-minded— and failing.

"Really?" She knew Candlehead was making _that_ face, her eyes probably sparkling, a smile most likely creeping in her face. She was surprised at how well she assumed to know her, despite the fact she had only done so for a bunch of weeks out of ten years.

She gulped again. "My hideout is big and well hidden. Good place to hide a… Big thing."

The gentle gasp proved all of her assumptions about Candlehead's demeanor true. "Yer taking me to your _hideout_?"

She finally stared at her, if only to just test _how _correct she had been. She had been plenty correct. Candlehead was _beaming_. She didn't want to, but a sideways smirk still slipped at her partner in crime's pep. Reciprocating her smiles was becoming more frequent each encounter. "Yep. I guess you are a level 5 friend now," she answered, the smirk steadily growing. "It's nothing big, but eh, it's my home. Help me carry this piece of junk there, will ya?"

She had to speak no more. The mint racer didn't answer. She picked up an axle.

* * *

><p>"So this is where you live?"<p>

She looked so _sad_ as she looked at the sponge cake mattress, the little shelves, the gummy teddy bear, the little chair she had crafted out of sticks.

"Yep. I told you it was not much. Don't look at it like that, jeez, you make the whole place gloomier than it _is." _She was, of course, trying to jokingly dismiss the misery of her tiny shack. No one needed to be a genius to know it sucked.

"You deserve a pretty house. With a bed-shaped bed. An' drawings on the walls. Drawings by me. And a little table by your bedside with a little lamp… An' a bathroom… Seriously, I dun think ya deserve to pee in the rear of the mountain." She plopped herself on the sponge cake bed, laying on her elbows. "That was the most awkward piss I've taken in my life."

Vanellope laughed heartily. That was possibly the first time she ever heard her had such foul language. She was rubbing off on her the more they hung out, and it was _awesome_. "You didn't have to scream about how odd that was, though," she said, recalling Candlehead's _How do you even pee in here?!_ Shriek of desperation. "That's just how my everyday piss goes."

Candlehead laid down on the bed, looking at the candy wrapper ceiling. "You need a bathroom." She dotted that with a giggle. "You deserve so much better…"

The glitch looked down. "Hey, at least…" she sat on the bed besides the mint racer and observed her. Candlehead was clearly hot. Beads of sweat dotted her forehead, some of her bangs stuck to her skin, her cheeks were red, and for some reason she just hadn't removed her jacked. Vanellope was used to the heat and didn't mind the hoodie, but the girl was foreign. "At least I got the satistfaction of knowing all that you see was hand-made by me. All has the Vanellope style. This thing is all me."

"I think it needs to be prettier," the cake racer answered. "I could make pictures for you to hand on the walls. Cute pictures, of flowers. If you like flowers. A drawing of you. Cool." She sat up. "I could go bring my colored pencils and my watercolors…"

"Don't go so fast," Vanellope said, holding the other girl's forearm. "You met the place and you even had a leak at my personal bathroom. _Now_ we gotta bring the kart in."

"Oh. Right." She smiled coyly, rubbing the back of her head. "Let's bring this baby in." She lifted herself from the bed and rubbed her hands. "Where was the entrance?"

Vanellope laughed. Heartily. Again. "Here, I'll guide you."

The sun was shining outside of the mountain. The kart parts have been dropped right between the two sugar-free lollipops, where Candlehead had totally forgotten them at the prospect of meeting her friend's place— and of going through a wall.

"I still think that's really rad," she said, after going through the code mesh.

They crouched together, ready to pick up the kart parts.

Then, someone cleared their throat.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Oh my god guys, life things, life things everywhere and lots of personal projects. Luckily I have nothing to do tomorrow, which means I can finally bring myself to get this ball rolling again (along with... other things I gotta do o-o). Also, this chapter is pretty short because an upload comes right after it! ;) **


	6. Crumbelina

Crumbelina

Candlehead snapped her head towards the source of the sound. To say she was frightened was an understatement. She had been caught in the act. She had no defense, no excuse. This was her end. She was going to jail, and then, to deletion. Her hands let go of the axle she had held. She was trembling from head to toe.

Crumbelina. Crumbelina was the one to see them.

She was holding something to her chest, something Candlehead couldn't appreciate well, as it was hidden under her jacket. She stood there, looking tired but stoic, her eyes transmitting the exact same distrust the whole situation was coated in.

That was the first time Candlehead ever thought of a word not suitable to the E-rated game. And the word was _Shit_.

"Oh, my," Crumbelina shot, puncturing the bubble of silence enveloping the scene. "Looks like I have walked into the wrong scene and place. What an interesting finding I have made."

Those words, that voice, the sense of danger, they awoke another part of Candlehead she didn't know she had.

And that part was fierce.

"Stay away," she growled, walking forward and standing in front of Vanellope, who just stared at her in stupefaction.

Crumbelina held the mysterious object with one arm and inspected her nails of the other. "You know, this would be a very interesting scoop to tell King Candy, and I don't even know what you're doing here. Just the two of you, together, _that_ would be something interesting to tell King Candy. I could just go, right now."

The cake racer had no answer. She just stood there. Protectively. Flaring her nostrils and stabbing Crumbelina with her eyes. Growling.

"I just want you to be aware," she walked two steps forward. "That you're doing some risky business right here. Very illegal risky business. Game Treason-tier risky business."

The candle gal had no idea where her reply came from. She didn't know how her brain remembered that. She didn't know the source of it, but it came. "And you? What are you doing here anyway? What got _ya_ t' this place? What're ya holdin'?"

Crumbelina sighed. "That is, perhaps, the problem with me telling King Candy. _I_ have risky… business too."

Candlehead's stance relaxed slightly. "Oh, so that's why you constantly fade after the races, and why sometimes the NPCs don't see you at your home every night, huh?"

Vanellope's eyes widened. She had no idea the world she was banned from knowing had a side so shady. Her irises darted between the two official racers.

Crumbelina sighed again. "So I guess I could go tell King Candy what you did, but then you would go one and tell him what _I_ did, hmm?" She walked even closer to the two. "Foolish of me. I have found you in a risky stance, while I myself assume a risky stance."

Green eyes dug into the posh racer. "Come on, Crumbs. You dun tell, I dun tell. It can be as easy as that."

"What is it that you two are doing?" Crumbelina broke the tension, her posture relaxing, her hidden arm stretching out to reveal a hardcover book that had all resemblance to a personal journal. "Look, we're both criminals now. I just was more careful with my guise, though. We can know what we're both doing."

She sensed the fury fading from her innards. Her protective pose relaxed as well. She sighed deeply. "Tell me what yer doing here. What if you're foolin' us into thinkin' yer harmless and then you'll bust us?" She was surprised at how smart that assumption was and mentally patted herself on her back for being so clever _for once_.

The Italian racer opened her arms, as if showing her harmlessness. "Look, I'm going to be honest then. I steal things from King Candy. I have also stolen from the code. I have infiltrated the castle at night, being careful I'm not caught and I don't leave any prints. I'm sure you have read those thefts in the paper. It was me. I have been peeping into His Majesty's private life… More specifically his life when he supposedly saved us."

Candlehead tilted her head. "What for?"

"Research," the other girl answered, cold as ice. "King Candy isn't totally normal… He doesn't totally fit here. I have suspected him for a long time. So I decided to fact-check about this guy and his background with us. And I have discovered quite a lot. King Candy isn't all he looks like."

The cake racer frowned in suspicion. "Yet you obey all his orders to go bully her, an' still mistreat her and hit her. Hmm." She pointed with a thumb to Vanellope.

She felt like a heavy rock had landed on her belly. Where did that come from, anyway? Where did the sudden surge to protect the greatest danger to the game birth from? Weren't they all told she _deserved it_ anyway?

So why did she want to protect her so bad?

"I'm keeping up appearances. It's why I race so often too." She crossed her arms. "You're doing shady business too. You should know what I'm talking about."

Flashbacks of how they rehearsed fake hits and kicks coursed through Candlehead's mind, increasing her inner turmoil.

"What have ya found?"

"I… am afraid that is the only thing I can't share." She looked down. "King Candy is… a lot more than we all think. I don't trust him. I don't think you trust him, either, if you're helping who he sees as the biggest menace to this game."

Vanellope recoiled, grimacing, and took some steps behind.

"Hey!" The candle girl screamed. "Watch your mouth."

But why? What she was saying was the truth.

Crumbelina smirked sideways, and that smirk flared something in Candlehead, a heat that wasn't exactly anger, but something entirely different. It surged from her belly and exploded outwards, feeling like a barrage of butterflies.

"The point is," she said, still smirking, "Don't trust King Candy. Because I already know many things, but the puzzle isn't completed… And until it is not, I do not plan on making it public… For fear of not being believed. I need all the proof. It's why I steal."

She stepped even closer. Candlehead and her were almost at conversation distance now. "That said, _what_ are you and the Glitch _doing_, Candlehead?"

She sighed deeply. Her back hunched, her head fell. "I am building a kart. With her. I… am going to make her a racer. She d'serves it, Crumbs. Ya should jus' see her."

Unbeknownst to her, a familiar, similar heat had just boomed on Vanellope's belly.

"That's Game Treason," Crumbelina said, giggling.

"What yer doing is Game Treason too," Candlehead answered, smiling half-heartedly.

"Gob, Candles, what you're doing is in a whole other level. Helping the biggest potential murderer be a racer. I would call it foolish, but there is such raw intelligence in what you're cooking up, I cannot bring myself to lower it to the level of stupidity. You have guts, Candlehead. The same sort of guts I have."

"'s dangerous, but she's not a murderer," she said, another wave of heat crashing against her skin and boiling in her chest. "At least, she _doesn't _want to be one. She's so good, Crumbs. An' she wants it so bad. She has earned it. At least a chance. At least a Random Roster Race."

"I won't bust you. Just promise you won't bust me either," the cinnamon girl said, her voice soft in tone, but firm in intention.

Candlehead's face slowly lifted. "Really? Ya won't tell?"

Crumbelina shrugged. "I decided I like you for being so brave. And I like you," she pointed to Vanellope, "for not giving up on your dream, even if you could bring an entire game down in the process. And most importantly," she chuckled, "I like you and you together." She pointed to both of them, her smile growing into something playful and full of subtext.

Candlehead snapped into an upright position, a particularly strong portion of the heat smacking her. "Hey! Jus' what are you trying to say?!" She shrieked, her voice cracking.

The Italian racer laughed. "Oh, nothing, nothing at all!" and in a second, her face snapped back to seriousness. "Now promise you won't bust me either."

"I promise."

Their hands met in a firm shake.

"I don't suppose you want an accomplice, do you… And I suppose you don't need any help carrying this to wherever you were taking it, either…?"

Candlehead smiled. It was a genuine, relaxed, joyful smile.

Behind them, Vanellope was beaming too.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: An important thingamajig.**

**Consider this an extension of the last chapter, not a chapter per se. **

**Crumbelina will play a role in this story later, I swear ohohohoho**


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